


Stalling

by Original_Cypher



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-18
Updated: 2012-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:25:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/Original_Cypher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after 3x10, the Good Guys Team goes on a crazy ride and they managed to get a re humanized Stefan back. This is what happens when they finally get home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stalling

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: If you've seen 3x10, you know what I mean... *cough*  
> Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm just playing. I'll give them back. Maybe.
    
    
    “ _Are you sure you know what you're doing?”_ Alaric had asked.
    
    
      Elena looks across the room as she enters. Damon and Stefan are framing the fireplace, dark silhouettes against the blazing fire. Her hand shake around her tumbler. 
        
    
    
    
    
    She watches Damon watch Stefan watch the flames. Both sense her, but only the older looks over and meets her eyes. There is a definite restrain in those.
    
    
      She knows what it is. Damon is not asking. Not asking if she's okay. Not asking if she's staying or what she's doing here. Because he doesn't want to ask “what about us?”.
        
    
    
    
    
    She ponders, rolling her wrist to hear the ice cubes clink softly, whether it is because he doesn't want to risk an answer, or because he doesn't want to rush her into one.
    
    
    Probably a bit of both.
    
    
    She glances down at the drink she won't be touching. The Salvatore's glasses are empty on the mantel.
    
    
    She swallows, then looks up, surprised it isn't echoing in the room.
    
    
    Damon turns to face her from where he stands, then presses his lips together with a resigned expression. “Look at that time. Gotta get my beauty sleep.” he pushes off the wall and claps his brother's shoulder. “Let you two catch up.”
    
    
    It breaks her heart. He's just stepping aside. She can't deny it anymore, even under the cover of modesty. He loves her. Damon _loves_ her. And he's willing to step aside without so much of a fight. And they both know that even know he loves Stefan, he's not doing it for him. He's letting the good guy have the stage. The one she deserves.
    
    
    Does she?
    
    
    Involuntary, she takes a step in his direction as he passes her and opens her mouth. What was she going to say? Stop? Don't go? Please, make this stop?
    
    
    The three of them are holding their breaths expectantly.
    
    
    It's ridiculous. After all that big picture, life-or-death of the many, they're stuck, breathless, over a classical love triangle.
    
    
    Eventually, Damon meets her eyes. She can't read them. She can see him pleading, but she doesn't know for what. She hands him her tumbler.
    
    
    The corner of his lips twitch, he takes it by the bottom of the glass, their fingers don't brush.
    
    
    Out of consideration for whom?
    
    
    She looks at the floor while he climbs his way up the stairs.
    
    
    “ _Not at all.”_ She'd said. _“But I know I need to.”_
    
    
    She couldn't be elsewhere tonight.
    
    
    She sighs and looks up, meeting Stefan's eyes. “Welcome home.” she says.
    
    
    He smiles. The first she's seen him wear _this_ smile since he went and made that deal. “I can't believe it's really over.”
    
    
    She feels a grin tug at her lips and ducks her head. “Don't jinx it, would you? I don't think I can go through that again.”
    
    
    He lets out a groan and pulls her tight against his chest.
    
    
    He's back. He really is. She's all wrapped up in his scent, his arms are around her and she lets herself drown in relief as she grips back desperately. Stefan melts against her, his hands coming to card through her hair and he breathes out slowly. “I missed you so much.”
    
    
    “I knew we'd get you back. I knew we would.” she hisses against his shoulder.
    
    
    He pulls back, gazes down at her face thoughtfully. She can see no hunger there. Rebecca compelled the relapse-related cravings out of him. One last parting gift.
    
    
    Her eyes flutter like scared butterflies when his thumb traces her cheekbone. This is a situation she doesn't want to deal with no. She doesn't want to confront it now.
    
    
    Yet he forces her to, whether he knows it or not, when he leans down to kiss her. She ducks her head down on a quiet gasp. She can't really believe what she's doing, but she doesn't know how to deal other wise. She certainly can't pretend.
    
    
    She also can't believe Damon offered to make her forget her feelings for him and that _kiss_. The kiss that changed everything. An acknowledgment, on her part. She didn't push him away. She got a taste. And they were both on equal footing suddenly. Both equally _fucked_.
    
    
    Stefan lets his hands fall away. When she chances a look up at him, she finds him looking pained, but not angry. “Damon.” he says, softly. As if there could be anyone else.
    
    
    She cringes, sucking her lower lip in, and looks down.
    
    
    “You're in love with him.” It's not really a question.
    
    
    She owes him an answer, though. She owes it to Damon, too. To herself. She think about it, though it's more a question of phrasing that meaning. She decides for simple, no half truths, no excuses. “Yes.”
    
    
    Elena sees Stefan nod slowly and looks up. The fire makes her watery eyes blurry.
    
    
    She wants that drink now.
    
    
    She wants to utter stupid words that will make it hurt more like “I didn't mean to.”, “I still love you, too.” or “I'm sorry.”
    
    
    She stays quiet and he's thankful for it. He takes her hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a cold kiss on her fingers. “He will laugh at me if I do it myself. Would you tell him how thankful I am for me?”
    
    
    She had a sad smile. “I'm pretty sure he knows.”
    
    
    “He deserves to hear it.”
    
    
    Elena nods, tries to remember a time when she wished her life was 'interesting' and calls her younger self stupid. She's about ready to step off that roller coaster. 
    
    
    They start walking to the stairs, when Stefan catches her hand again. She looks at him, quizzical. “You should go to him.” he says.
    
    
    “What?” This can't be right.
    
    
    “I'm okay, Elena.” He says softly, squeezing her fingers as it to prove it. “I'm back. I'll still be back when you wake up.”
    
    
    That part makes sense. But he's not telling her she can go home. He's not telling her she can go to Damon. He's telling her _to_ go to Damon. “...why?”
    
    
    Stefan has one of his sad smiles and cups her face in both hands, like he's committing it to memory, as if he's afraid he won't see it again. “Because he's the one who kept you strong and sane while I was gone.” he starts. “Because you liked him even before that.” it's not an accusation. “Because I love him.” he says, with a flash of big brother worship on his face. “Because, for once, the woman he loves loves him back. And she's good.” he brushes away the tear that rolls down her cheek. “Because he would have died to keep you safe, even when you wouldn't speak to him. Because he turned it back without meaning to when I couldn't even when i tried.” He leans in to kiss her forehead and meets her eyes again. “Because he's the one you would have been with, tonight, hadn’t been here.”
    
    
    She feels his hand letting hers slip when he walks away. He disappears with a reassuring smile.
    
    xxx
    
    
    
    
    
    “Come in, Stef...” Damon's voice calls through the door before she makes up her mind between running, knocking, entering or calling out.
    
    
    He doesn't try to hide his surprise when she's the one entering. Alone.
    
    
    He's lying in bed, shirtless under the covers. His ankles are obviously crossed, bunching up the fabric, and his hands are joined on his stomach. He has music playing low from his alarm-clock, likely to keep himself from _listening_. He reaches over and turns it off.
    
    
    “Checking up on me?” he asks with a brave attempt at a leering smile.
    
    
    She just walks over and sits by his side, flattening her hand on top of the expensive sheets. She looks him over, watches his face carefully.
    
    
    He holds her gaze with a question in his eyes for a moment, then makes a face and looks away. “I'm not drunk, Elena. I'm... okay.” He turns back to her. “I'm glad he's back.” There is no questioning the truth in his statement.
    
    
    Elena nods.
    
    
    “How is he?”
    
    
    She looks at the wall, as if to peer through it into Stefan's room, she shrugs. “Back. … He's back.” she looks at her hands. “I don't know.” She will never cease to find his eyes startling. “He told me to come see you.”
    
    
    Damon blinks in surprise, then shakes his head. “... Stefan.” he mutters.
    
    
    Elena lies down, weary and sore from the last two days. She stares up at the ceiling as he lays a careful arm across her stomach. When she lays her hand on his forearm, she feels him relax. 
    
    
    She swallows, thinks of turning the music back on. The thought itself is a chore.
    
    
    They sigh in unison. Damon presses hi face to her elbow  in thought, then muses. “How about we sleep for a week?”
    
    
    She smiles. “And a half.”
    
    
    “Rick'll come up with a nice note of excuse for you.”
    
    
    For the first time in a long time, she feels laughter bubbling in her chest. She looks down at her hand on his skin pensively. “Can I spend the night here?”
    
    
    She realizes Damon's fingers have been drawing sigils on her side when he suddenly stops. “Here, as in... I need to get up and make up a guest room or-...?”
    
    
    “Here.” she says, pressing herself deeper into the pillow.
    
    
    “Huh.” He shifts, sitting up. She follows the movement, unsure. “Okay, ah.. Fair enough, I guess.” he shrugs. “I've squatted your bed enough these past few weeks.”
    
    
    She gives him a smile. “And see? I _asked_.”
    
    
    He squints at her, his own way of sticking his tongue out, and she swings her legs around to take off her shoes.
    
    
    Slipping under the covers with Damon seems like jumping into a fire. Reckless and dangerous. And hot.
    
    
    With the lights off, he keeps a cautious distance between them. She knows she's only digging a deeper hole, but she reaches over and tugs his hand until he curls himself against her back. She feels him nuzzle into a comfortable position behind her head and she can feel tension that has been cramping her leave her body for the first time in months. She can feel him all around her, it's safe.
    
    
    “Does this... Does this mean you're here with me?” he asks, kicking himself mentally because he just can't help it.
    
    
    “I...” she toys with his fingers. “Can we just...” she frowns. “Can we rest now?”
    
    
    It seems to be the good answer, like he wouldn't have believed she was okay if she'd picked him. At least not tonight. Maybe he doesn't think she'll _ever_ pick him. But she's here. “Yeah, we can.” he whispers. He hugs her closer, pressing his lips to her hair. “Goodnight, Elena.”
    
    
    “Goodnight, Damon.”


End file.
